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Mathekis placed his hands behind his back and slowly paced in a horizontal line. “My bargain wasn’t met. I knew the price. He asked me not to go through with the spell.”

“Asked you not to? As if he couldn’t control the punishment? He’s the one who made the stipulations. You see that, don’t you? He’s the reason you’re cursed. He’s not your friend. He should be your enemy.”

His black lips pressed firmly together.

With a sigh, Layala said, “If you knew the consequences then why would you do it?”

“Because I loved her—turns out she didn’t love me.”

“A mate bond?”

Silence stretched long between them.

“What makes you think he will free you once he’s back?”

His footsteps were eerily silent as he paced, as was his breathing. The sizzling candles on the small cherry wood desk were louder. How simple it would be for him to sneak up on someone. He was as quiet as a ghost, as if he weighed nothing and did not draw breath. Chills peppered Layala’s skin.

“He promised me if I delivered you to him, he would.”

“You’re taking me inside the Void.” It wasn’t a question.

He stopped his pacing and leveled her with his eerie gaze. “Yes. You will not be harmed.”

She gulped and inched back until the tent’s fabric grazed her skin. She had to get away from these people. Feeling with her hand, she searched for the tent’s opening. Once she caught the edge of the fabric, she gripped it, ready to twist and run.

“I know you fear the stories—fear Zaurahel,” he paused, “but you don’t need to. And I have a feeling eventually you won’t.”

“Everyone fears him.”

“He will be in your debt.”

He wouldn’t because she wasn’t going to bring him back. Layala took a deep breath, plotting out her path of escape in her mind. She could dash through the tall wheat fields relatively unseen and make for the town below. There would be somewhere to hide.

“Don’t try to run.” Mathekis still held his hands behind his back as he paced. His words weren’t laced with power. It wasn’t a magical command. “You won’t get far and Tenebris will only hurt you more. He brought your friends. And I’m sure you remember what happened to the maid.”

“What friends?” Had Tenebris found Aunt Evalyn, Forrest or Ren?

“The red-haired warrior girl, Piper, and your prince’s right hand, Fennan. I know them well.”

Layala released the fabric, and her shoulders sank. Leaving would be a death sentence for them… her eyes widened a little. But if they were here in this camp, she could find them. They could run together. “Is there a reason you called me here or can I leave?”

He turned his back to her. “You may go.”

Layala slipped past the tent’s flaps and stepped out to find Aldrich and those same three guards waiting. All of them straightened their spines and pushed their shoulders back.

“I’m to give you a meal.” Aldrich moved the plate toward her. A meager roll and maybe an ounce of meat. “And escort you back to the cart.”

She snatched the plate, and as they walked through the camp, she searched for another prison cart or a place they might be holding Piper and Fennan. Across burning fires, tents, and groups of soldiers, she spotted another cart with bars.

Chapter10

Two days and nights passed. With the vast green hills on one side and thick trees on the other, they were close to Doonafell. She remembered racing through Fanvore Wood to get away from pale ones like it was the day before. Layala would never forget the rancid smell of burning flesh and dejection in the people’s eyes as their city burned and their loved ones died. She would also forever remember this city as the place she fell in love with Thane.

The high, bright moon shining in through the barred windows gave away the midnight hour. With her hands behind her head, Layala lay on the hardwood bench, trying to ignore the ache in her back. An owl cooed nearby, the soothing sound of it made her eyelids heavy but the last two nights brought endless nightmares of her searching for Thane but finding the Black Mage instead. She didn’t want to sleep even though her tired body called for it. It was so quiet with only an occasional murmured voice or light footsteps of passing soldiers. Her stomach growled; they didn’t bring her a plate of food tonight and the lingering scent of roasted meat made her hungrier.

“We need to talk.” Varlett appeared on the other side of the back barred window.

Layala shot up, all traces of tiredness gone. “What do you want?”